She Believed in Happiness
by pfeffi
Summary: —but God spare the man who ever claimed she did. — Konan.


**x.**

She couldn't remember the last time she had been happy.

In the beginning, Nagato – no, _Pein_, she would always correct herself – made sure it never went unnoticed by him when she was frowning. They were comrades, they were friends – they might as well have been siblings with the bonds they shared – and they were meant to care for each other. But even for a self-proclaimed god, there was little he could do to raise her spirits.

He wondered whether it hurt her more than it hurt him.

**ix. **

At one point, Pein – or was it Nagato? She couldn't remember anymore – refused to let her be alone. The Seven Paths circled her, tried to give her the warmth that they didn't have, tried to make her feel _whole_ again. (Funny the irony of it all). But she was broken, a torn piece of paper with shreds left to grow soggy in the rain, because there was no wind to carry her away, and she firmly believed that she would never be whole again.

(She believed in happiness though, but God spare the man who ever claimed she did).

**viii. **

The rainy season never passed; he watched from afar as a perpetual sorrow settled itself over her. Her movements, though graceful, were left with an emptiness that could not be filled, and her face hid behind a papery mask. Those who claimed that eyes were not the doors to a person's soul had never met Konan. She would never cry, she stood tall, though not proud, and watched everything with a solemn gaze. She watched the world pass her by and took in all she could, storing it deep within her, for a time that everyone claimed would never come. A time of peace and hope and freedom. A time where she would smile again.

It was that hope that brought about the Akatsuki – a name whispered in fear, not in the awe and love desired.

**vii.**

The Akatsuki firmly believed her to be a pillar of strength. No one knew her story, no one asked, but everyone relied on her when it came down to it. And she, in her own way, relied on them to keep her from falling into the abyss of her thoughts. She would watch over them all, her bitterness towards the ever-changing world and its people growing as the broken and bruised entered her silent domain. Offering whispers of comfort and the gentle brush of fingertips, Konan would carry out futile attempts to put the shattered pieces back together.

She realized one evening that she had never met an Akatsuki member who had not faced fate's cruel wrath.

**vi.**

The first time she had met someone untainted, someone _almost_ pure, had been during the season of Spring.

He hadn't come to the base willingly – he had been knocked out and carried – and her breath _nearly_ caught at the sight of a boy, tattered clothes and bruised, slung over the shoulder of one of her many comrades. Her stiff composure wouldn't falter though, as she checked his pulse to make sure he was breathing, and then retreated back into Pein's – rare was the time she called him Nagato now – chambers and faced him. A silent confrontation: neither needed to speak words in order to understand the other.

"Potential." Pein whispered, pressing the palm of his hand against her cheek. A rare example of physical contact. "One step closer to our goal."

She nearly broke all over again at his words.

**v.**

The hatred that spouted from the boy when he awoke did not come as a surprise to her. Nor the fact that he continued to hold onto it in the months that came and went. She bowed her head and kept her eyes turned away from the sight of him, staring out the window despairingly. _A caged bird_, she thought, _trapped in the rain, never to see the sun again._

He noticed her, unmoving, quiet, a wallpaper angel ready to disappear. There was pain in his eyes as he demanded why she was standing there, and her stone heart began to melt, yearning to reach out to him and hold him tight.

"Being curious." She replied softly.

He could barely here her words, but the faintest threads of warmth in them, directed towards him, was enough to form the beginnings of a friendship.

**iv. **

She could see so much life inside the golden haired boy with the pretty blue eyes. It reminded her of a friend (more than a friend, she thought wistfully, with no regrets). A friend with a dream, with energy, with _perseverance_, and a heart made of stardust and angel kisses.

That, she decided, was most likely the reason why she was drawn to the boy. Because he was like a memory of the past, a story that never was and never would be. (Months later she would believe the same of a blonde Jinchruuki – so much life she had yet to discover). And yet, he was entirely different. He had his own energy and style, he was something all to himself. Sometimes she wondered whether he would be as fleeting as his art.

Konan's lips twitched in anticipation of a smile at the thought, but she forced it back down.

**iii.**

"I don't understand you." He said as they sat quietly upon a stone bench, with garden leaves whispering comforting lullabies (and lies).

Her deep eyes flickered over to him; he looked directly back at her with a lion's gaze. She shied away, tilting her head in the opposite direction so as to not look at him. His frown only deepened as he took her hand in his own, adding a sense of comforting pressure.

"Why are you hiding?" He continued.

It was an innocent question, but it was enough to strike her right through her core. For a moment, she questioned herself – why was she hiding? – but her defenses rose up like steel once more to defend her fragile sense of being. Her voice nearly cracked as she replied back.

"Why aren't you?"

**ii.**

He toldher that he was leaving. He informed her of his plans and she tried to stop him (such naïve hope she had), of course, to no avail. Konan watched as he walked out the front door, giving her a reassuring smile before disappearing from her eyes (life). The door didn't shut for a long time.

It hadn't come as a surprise to her, the news of his death. It had been just like he wanted it: explosive, brilliant – it had even made Sasori reluctantly agree that perhaps his art was a form of _true _art. No one said a word for a long moment, before parting to their separate abodes. Pein – Nagato barely existed in her mind – cast her a silent glance of concern, yet he didn't dwindle. He knew where she was going, and once upon a happier time he would have joined her.

She stood outside, her mere presence battling and warding off the blitzes of lightning and the heavy rains' teardrops; the wind howled and ripped at her clothes, she clenched her teeth and stood strong. The cold and the bitterness and the hatred and the loss and the knowing all surrounded her; the pain was excruciating, yet she refused to cry. She refused to bow down. He had been strong, now it was her turn.

He deserved that much.

**i.**

The rain, she noticed two months after his passing, had lightened. No longer was it a lion, but a kitten; the storm had been tamed.

She wasn't sure what it had been about the boy with the golden hair and the clear blue eyes that reminded her of a cloudless sky (one that she had never seen), but he had lifted some of the heavy burden on her heart and pieced her back together. He had delved more deeply than any other Akatsuki member, and his curiosity had brought her back from the brink of madness. She knew, deep inside, that no matter how long he had survived, there would have been nothing she could have done to repay him for all he had done for her.

When she rose from her seat, a grim calm rested in her eyes. She was going to march to her end and she _knew_ it, and she was unafraid. She was restored and beautiful and _powerful_ and he had made her feel that way; she would defend her honor, her friends, her people, and her heart with pride once lost. His soul was with her, along with all the others, and she smiled because for the first time she was _truly_ happy. She was going to a place where peace reigned over all.

She was going home.


End file.
